


Battleship

by Ima_Paris_Sight



Series: Play to Win, But Enjoy the Fun [3]
Category: LazyTown
Genre: Adopted Children, Elf Sportacus (LazyTown), F/F, Fae Robbie Rotten, Glanni and Robbie are brothers, M/M, Sportacus and Íþróttaálfurinn are brothers, Zombie Apocalypse, molotov cocktails as a distraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:48:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21759325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ima_Paris_Sight/pseuds/Ima_Paris_Sight
Summary: Sportacus and Stephanie are helpless when they join Robbie's crew
Relationships: Glanni Glæpur & Robbie Rotten, Robbie Rotten & Sportacus, Robbie Rotten & The Kids, Robbie Rotten/Sportacus, Stephanie Meanswell & Sportacus, Stephanie Meanswell/Trixie
Series: Play to Win, But Enjoy the Fun [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1566493
Kudos: 30





	Battleship

_Knock, knock, knock-knock-knock-knock-knock_. Sportacus knocks on the side door of the RV in perfect tune with a forgotten song.

_Knock-knock, knock-knock-knock._ The person on the inside taps out the next line, as if in question.

_Knock-knock, knock, knock-knock_. Sportacus smiles lightly, gesturing Robbie to join him.

_Knock-knock_. After the last double knock, the door creaks open. A young girl no more than twelve opens the door. Her long strawberry blonde hair hangs in her face, and she wears a black and hot pink marksman suit. She smiles at Sportacus, but she raises an eyebrow when Robbie enters behind him.

“We need to move, Stephanie. There are other survivors.”

She watches as Sportacus packs their clothes and makeshift weapons, and then she turns to Robbie with a warmer look.

“Do you have a team?”

Robbie nods. “They’re competent.”

“How many people have you lost?”

“Thirteen, maybe fourteen.”

Her eyes widen in alarm. “We only lost four. Or five.”

His eyes narrow and he pushes her back to move. “Get to the bathroom and lay low.”

“Is someone coming? I can fight. I have a crowbar. And a guitar. And”

“Go to the bathroom and lay low!” He repeats, raising his voice. “It’s a fucking gasbag.”

Her eyes widen and she obeys. Robbie rushes to the kitchen and scours it for an old dishrag. Sportacus flips into the living room, eyes wide in panic.

“What can I do?”

“Do you have any alcohol in this damn place?”

“No, I don’t drink.”

Robbie finds a glass bottle of water and thrusts it in Sportacus’ direction. “Get rid of the water. Don’t break the bottle.”

Sportacus raises an eyebrow but follows in suit. Robbie finds a dishrag and rips it. When Sportacus has drunk the water in the bottle, Robbie pulls out a flask and pours most of the rum into the bottle. He stuffs the rag into the opening and pulls out a lighter. Robbie moves to a broken window with boards over it to keep watch.

“You packed?”

“Two bags and a box.” Sportacus nods.

“You need the box?”

He nods again. “Tennis rackets, clothes, and a toaster.”

Robbie shakes his head without taking his eyes off the window. “Leave that shit behind. Carry essentials in backpacks.”

Sportacus frowns, and Stephanie crawls from her hiding place. “What essentials?”

“Small weapons, first aid, water, food packs, blanket, flint, glowsticks, flashlight, poncho, compass, mirror, gloves, whistle, duct tape, fishing line, fishing hooks, and a good knife.”

He blinks after the long list. “We have _most_ of that in here. No shampoo or toothpaste, or”

“No.” Robbie is adamant. “Just the essentialssshit… Pinky, get up here. Gasbags are coming. Sportastrong, pry off one of the boards. You and the kid get ready to run.”

“Where to?” Stephanie cuts off her father’s immediate refusal.

“There’s a clearing by the tall oak tree. Find a tank turned topside and hide inside. Got it?” Stephanie salutes, and Sportacus nods. “Give me twenty minutes once you make it. Then follow your compass west.”

Robbie ignites the rag, winds his arm back, and throws the cocktail toward a group of Hazmat-donned zombies. While Sportacus and Stephanie race out the door, Robbie pulls out a sniper revolver with a silencer on the end. He takes out each of the disoriented gasbags one by one. Once they’re taken out, he pulls a two-way radio from his bag and calls for Home Base.

“What’s your twenty?” Trixie’s voice crackles through the other side.

“Found another Joe and a little Jane.”

There’s a brief pause before Trixie lets out a sigh. “Jives is back.”

Robbie closes his eye momentarily, letting out a silent prayer in thanks that the teenager made it safely. He crab-walks around a wall, collecting a loose brick. He keeps low to the ground and is careful as he makes his way around anything that would make noise. Arriving at his bunker by the water main, he notices a set of three clickers roaming about. Robbie curses inwardly. He closes his eyes to bring in some energy. He adjusts his bag straps and starts running. He stops outside the clickers’ range and hurls the brick as far as he can toward the metallic bearings.

The clickers scream and race toward the noise, and Robbie hightails it to the bunker. He waves his hand over the main pipe, releasing all the locking mechanisms. He pulls open the lid and slides down, the lid clamping shut after him. Stingy and Jives are there to greet him when he exits the slide-like tube. Stingy is carrying arrows, ammo, and a few revolvers and pistols with silencers.

“Trixie’s helping Zig with his Go Bag,” Jives informs Robbie. “How old’s the new kid?”

Robbie shrugs noncommittedly. “Somewhere around ten and twelve. Doesn’t seem to have a grip on fighting.” He looks around the bunker, grabbing and stuffing a small, purple cow blanket into his bag. “We still got those Billiards balls?”

“We should…” Jives glances around the nearby bookshelf and grabs a box labeled ‘VHS Tapes’. “Why?”

“Pinky can stuff a couple in a sock and swing ‘em around. Don’t know about the elf. He had acorns for ammo.”

Jives raises his eyebrows. “Elf? Like Tricky and Beanie? Or Elf like, _elf_?”

“Elf.” He responds with a look in his eyes. “He doesn’t know, and I don’t think the kid shares it. They’re waiting in the old tanker.”

Jives nods. “Where do we head from here?”

Robbie grabs an old camping knapsack, grabbing things from the boxes around to make another Go Bag. He collects a respirator mask, Satcom radio, canteen, Glock 19 with a silencer, and the aforementioned essentials. Just as he packs a seven-inch Old Hickory knife, the other kids reenter with their bags. Everyone grabs their preferred weapons from Stingy and lines up for Robbie.

“Alright, kids. We’ve got to fetch the newcomers at the tanker. I need Trixie and Stingy to come with. Pixel and Ziggy, you two go with Jives to the old train station beyond city lines. Fashion a base but don’t set up camp. Radio us once you do. Got it?”

The kids nod in response, and Ziggy salutes him. Robbie opens a back alleyway with the wave of his arm, and he climbs up first. The farthest he’s made it to the surface is downtown, by the old library and bakery. He carefully climbs the ladder from the old sewer grate. Once he sees they’re in the clear, he helps the others up. Trixie and Stingy have stayed behind at the water main. Once Jives and the other kids maneuver behind the fractured library fountain, Robbie teleports the short but dangerous distance to the other exit. Trixie and Stingy are sporting matching helmets, and the younger of the two holds up an extra to Robbie.

“Alright, you two.” He grabs their eye contact while strapping on the helmet. “Keep each other’s back. Weapons drawn at all times; do you hear me?”

“Got it,” Trixie responds, readying her slingshot.

“Ready, Dad.” Stingy draws his bow.

The kids trail behind Robbie, eyes open for any distraction, and ears on alert for any sound. The leader of the group pulls out his baseball bat and keeps out a vigilant eye. Once they round the oak tree, Stingy takes root with his bow and arrow, and a shotgun at his side for precaution. Robbie and Trixie scale the tank. Trixie raises a hand to the crowbar in her pack, but Robbie distinctly recalls the knocking schematic the newcomers had.

_Knock, knock, knock-knock-knock-knock-knock_.

Trixie looks up strangely, wondering what the specific knock as to do with anything when a similar knock startles her from the other side.

_Knock-knock, knock-knock-knock._

Robbie controls a grimace, thinking back to the RV.

_Knock-knock, knock, knock-knock_.

_Knock-knock_.

Stephanie opens the tanker lid with a small smile on her face. “You remembered the code.”

Robbie nods. “Memory’s a good thing to have. Where’s your dad?”

Stephanie looks pensive for a moment, but it quickly clears. Robbie suspects the girl is adopted in the same way his kids are to him. When he looks back, he needs to step away, as Sportacus comes into view. Robbie shrugs off his larger bag and hefts it over.

“These supplies’ll start you off.”

“We’re not coming with you?” He looks startled.

“You’re coming with us ‘cause you got a kid.” He gestures vaguely to Stephanie. “You get your own supplies ‘cause we don’t trust you. Now, let’s go.”


End file.
